


Suppressed

by Ratclowns



Category: DCU (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Father/Son Incest, First Time, Frottage, Generally just fucked up, Gunplay, Huge fucking cock, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Sibling Incest, Stretching, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2019-12-29 02:18:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18298271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratclowns/pseuds/Ratclowns
Summary: Slade and Adeline are loud when they fuck, and Grant's tired of hearing it. Grant doesn't feel too bad about roping Joey into doing something stupid to try and get some attention.Grant/Joey with background Slade/Adeline and mentions of Slade/Joey. They're all around bad people already so the incest takes a backseat to the everyday assassinations they commit, right? EDIT: chapter 2 up including some crazy gunplay and brotherfucking while Slade continues to be a very Bad Parent





	1. Chapter 1

Grant hates his fucking parents.

“I hate our fucking parents.” He says, rolled on his side on his bed, pillow clutched over his ears to drown out the noise.

“No you don’t.” Joey says, headphones plugged into a cd player near Grant’s back. Even with the sound up as high as it can go, he can still hear his parents going at it. He liked being in Grant’s room, especially when his parents were occupied like this. “You just hate them when they fuck.”

Grant smiles when he hears his brother curse. Slade always said it was his influence, that he was the bad one, like Slade and Adeline didn’t run around dropping f-bombs in front of them both. It gave Grant a thrill instead, thinking about his influence over Joey.

“We should run away.” Grant says. “Get out of here while they go at it. Won’t even fuckin’ notice until we’re in Metropolis.”

In the bedroom above them, muffled shouts of pleasure are still audible. Like sound through water, distorted but not dampened, just suppressed. Joey can hear his father talking, the low cadences clear but meaning lost, before hearing his mother yell a clear, “Oh, fuck!”

“You ever think about it?” Grant asks, dropping the pillow and turning to his brother.

“Running away? Or fucking Dad?” Joey starts. Grant punches him on the arm, almost enough to knock him off the bed.

“No, idiot, not Slade. Just fucking someone.”

Joey looks away. His hair, curly and blonde, hangs in front of his face. Grant rests his head in his hand and watches. Joey, the good son, the golden child. What Grant wouldn’t do to see him corrupted, brought down to his level.

“Yeah, I’ve… I’ve thought about it. I just don’t have anyone I like right now.”

Grant laughs. “I think Mom and Slade are proof that you don’t have to like someone to fuck them.”

There’s more noise from above, a litany of hushed curses from both of them. The sound of the bedframe hitting the wall and mattress squeaking break past everything else, and Grant gets another jolt of anger.

“I wish they knew how it fuckin’ felt, having to hear those gross noises all the goddamn time. They don’t even care that we’re listening.”

“You wanna listen to music with me?” Joey asks, holding out the headphones.

“No I want to teach them a lesson.” Grant moves closer to his brother then, crowding him against the edge of the bed. “Just go with it, okay?”

“Go with wh--” Joey starts, but Grant cuts him off with a harsh kiss. It’s rough, unrefined, and a part of Grant hopes it’s Joey’s first kiss. He makes a sound at the back of his throat, a broken off moan that Grant can’t pretend doesn’t get to him. Before he can go further, Joey pushes him back.

He breathes hot and heavy. “Why did you _do_ that?”

Grant tries a shaky laugh and raises to his knees. “Come on, don’t you wanna show them how it feels? I bet they’d never fuck so loud again if they caught us like this. I bet they’d never even _think_ about doing it when we’re here.”

Joey watches, almost detached, as Grant straddles him. His older brother on top of him, asking to do something like this? Joey hadn’t allowed himself to even dream of it.

“Are you joking?” Joey whispers. He couldn’t handle it if Grant stopped, told him it was a prank, laughed at him for being so naive to believe he’d ever be wanted like that.

“I’m dead serious.” Grant smiles. “But you gotta be _loud_.”  With that, Grant lowers himself to Joey’s waist, feels the hard outline of his dick through his shorts. He feels Joey’s hips jerk, his hands grasping at Grant to hold onto as he shouts.

The noises above them pause. It’s brief, a single beat before the creaking of the bedframe resumes, but Grant knows his father’s hearing is more than good enough to pick up on Joey’s moan.

“Slade heard us.” Grant says.

“Ah,” Joey whines. His dick grinds against Grant’s ass harder, more desperate. Joey’s nails claw into Grant’s hips, trying to press them as close as possible through the fabric.

“Yeah, just like that, fuck,” Grant moans, loud and exaggerated. It sounds fake even to his own ears, but it seems to make Joey rut against him harder.

“Hhn, please, I can’t,” Joey stutters.

“Louder,” Grant whispers. “Make ‘em hear you. Make Slade think about you when he’s trying to come.”

“Fuck,” Joey yells, “you can’t say that, Grant--” Again, the sound above them pauses, then resumes, out of rhythm.

“You think he’s thinking about you?” Grant says, grinding down on Joey’s erection. “Fuck, you’re so hard! Are you gonna come from just humping me?”

“Grant, please!” Joey whines, one hand moving up to Grant’s shoulder to try and pull him closer.

“Not yet.” Grant laughs, getting up. Joey’s hips keep working, trying to find friction; he keens, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

Grant moves down Joey’s body, face level with the outline of his brother’s cock. His mouth waters, and he pushes the thought back in his mind that this might be more than teaching Slade a lesson. He’d deal with that later.

“What’re you gonna do?” Joey asks, one hand snaking into Grant’s hair.

“I’m gonna suck you off, Jo.” He yells, knowing that Slade’s listening for them now. He gets a longer pause in response, Adeline’s voice blurred through the wall but still audible. Probably asking why he stopped, Grant thinks. Prick.

He pulls Joey’s underwear down with his shorts, his dick laying hard and heavy against his stomach. He hadn’t ever really thought of his brother’s cock before, but it still manages to look better than he expected. He licks from base to tip, messy, and Joey’s thighs clench around his head.

“Grant! Please!” Joey sobs. His entire face is blushing red down to his chest, the hand not in his brother’s hair clawing at the bed.

“Please what? Let me hear you beg, Jo, I know you can,” Grant laughs. “Make sure Slade hears you.”

“Please, please,” Joey chokes, his hips jerking. His cock only brushes against Grant’s cheek, but the touch makes Joey moan.

“What do you think Slade’d do if he saw us?” Grant asks, tongue dipping out to lap at the head of Joey’s cock. “He’d probably throw me across the room for touching you, huh? The fuckin’ golden boy, defiled by big, bad Grant.”

“Grant, Grant,” Joey repeats like a mantra, his eyes squeezed shut. The hand in Grant’s hair tightens.

“I bet I could fuck you before he stopped me,” Grant’s hand wraps around Joeys cock and works in small, languid strokes. “Even if he fucked you too he’d know I came in you first. I tasted you first. I was the one making you look like this. Not Slade. Me.”

“Fuck!” Joey comes, muscles taut, into Grant’s hand. He sobs through it, whining when Grant keeps pumping his hand. Grant waits, transfixed, until Joey’s eyes have opened to lick his come, opalescent and dripping, off his fingers.

“Oh my god,” Joey groans, shuddering.

“You were really into it, huh?” Grant laughs. “I didn’t even get off, but you came so much!”

“Don’t,” Joey says, weakly. His chest rises and falls quickly, and Grant watches, fascinated.

“Don’t what? I still want to come.” Grant finally, finally takes his dick out of his pants. He kicks them off then crawls over Joey until they’re eye to eye, resting his weight on his elbows. “Aren’t you gonna let me come, Jo?”

“Oh, fuck,” Joey gasps as Grant rolls his hips against Joey’s spent cock. His cum still pooled, making the slide easy and wet. He turns his head away from Grant, eyes shut from embarrassment and overstimulation.

His hips jerk against Grant before he can stop them.

“You’d let me fuck you, right Jo?” He keeps moving against his brother’s dick, and Grant wonders if his dick is leaking or if Joey just came this much. “You’d let me open you up? Make you feel so good, Jo. Better than he could.”

Joey whines again, and Grant can see a tear roll down his cheek. He wants to taste it, but drops his head to Joey’s neck instead.

“I’d fuck you so good, Joey. Make you feel so good inside. Get deeper than he could ever reach, even if he tried. God, Jo, I’m gonna come so _hard_ , fill you up so full, mark you inside, Slade could never, fuckin’ daddy could never--”

“Please, Grant, come for me,” Joey whimpers, and Grant obeys. He rolls full bodied against Joey, writhing as he rides it out, biting into Joey’s neck because he can’t control himself, not now, not when his dick is so slick against his brother’s and the pressure is too much to take, and Joey’s whining, crying again.

Joey jerks against him when Grant sinks his teeth in, pain pushing his already sensitive body into another orgasm. He feels electrified, aware of every part of his body tingling, feeling Grant’s cock pulse streaks of cum against him.

“Fuck!” Grant breathes, collapsing, full-bodied, onto his brother. He feels sticky, sweaty, overworked. He can feel Joey’s chest, slick with sweat or cum or both, rise and fall pressed to his.

Joey breathes against him, the solid weight of his brother annoying but not distressing. He lets himself doze, feels the cool rush of air as Grant gets off, grabs something off the floor to wipe them off, whisper something to Joey about doing good. He rolls himself over, lets Grant cover him with a blanket, and continues to balance on the edge of sleep until Grant lays down beside him,

Distantly, he realizes the air around them is silent, and has been for a while.


	2. Overpowered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slade punishes his kids in new and creative ways for the shit they pulled. Hard father/son, gunplay, dubcon with a happy ending.

Grant spends the next three weeks looking over his shoulder. He expected Joey to pull away, either from awkwardness or to shield himself from whatever Slade was going to do to them when he got home, but instead Joey had plastered himself to Grant’s side like never before. He moved into Grant’s bed at night, followed him around the house like a puppy, kept himself in between Grant and Adeline to keep the peace. Slade had left the night they had put on their little show for him, before the boys had woken up, and Grant hadn’t heard a word from him since. Adeline, he suspects, didn’t know anything about what they did.

The worry swirls in his head. Why didn’t Slade tell her? Grant doesn’t _enjoy_ getting punished, not by Adeline’s words or Slade’s hands, but as the days wear on he wishes Slade would come home and get it over with. Whatever “it” is.

When he and Joey wake up that morning the house is empty. A note on the fridge, in Adeline’s neat handwriting, just says “Emergency. Don’t skip school. Food in Fridge. Father home later. Love you.” Curt as ever.

“We aren’t actually going to school, right?” Joey asks.

“Fuck no,” Grant laughs. “Far as I’m concerned, until Slade gets home we can do whatever we want.”

Joey breaks out into a smile and it makes Grant’s heart leap. They park themselves in front of the TV until the late afternoon, when Joey makes for the kitchen. Grant hears the fridge open before a long pause of silence.

“You been quiet in there a while,” Grant yells from the living room. “You forget how to use a microwave or something?”

Something ice cold touches the back of Grant’s neck. “Careful, ‘s hot,” Joey laughs. A six pack of beer, forbidden to be touched. They both open one.

Joey almost gags at the taste, but when he sees how easily Grant tips his head back and finishes a bottle in under a minute, he works to keep up. Grant opens a second while Joey finishes his first, the foam dripping down his chin.

“Slade’s gonna have your ass for this, Jo.” Grant laughs. “Bet you’d like it, though.”

Joey wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Stop it.”

“You don’t have to worry, you can talk about it,” Grant says, opening a third bottle. “I’m not gonna judge you just ‘cause you got hard thinking about how bad you want Slade ‘ta fuck you.”

“Grant, stop it!”

“Come on, Jo, can’t you admit it? You can blame it on being drunk or whatever you gotta do to make yourself feel better. Just lemme hear you say it once.”

Joey stays stock still on the couch while Grant crowds closer. His hand strokes the side of Joey’s face, thumb catching on his bottom lip.

“Or maybe you just want me more?”

Joey slams himself forward, wrapping his arms around Grant and kissing him harshly. The beer in his hand spills as he works his lips against his brother’s, moaning softly as Grant opens his mouth. They both taste like alcohol, bitter and aged. Joey thinks he might start to enjoy it after this.

“I’ve been wanting to,” Joey says. “I really wanted to. After that time. Please, Grant, can we…?”

“Say it, Jo. You want me to fuck you?”

Joey gasps as his cock, hard and leaking in his pants, is teased by one of Grant’s hands. Their drinks spill onto the ground when he twists under Grant’s palm.

“You wanna feel me work you open, huh Jo? Feel yourself stretched on my dick?” Grant laughs. “Go to Mom’s room and look for lube. They probably keep it in the fuckin sock drawer or something.”

Joey, red faced and out of breath, untangles himself from Grant and shakily climbs the stairs. Grant watches as he disappears into their parent’s bedroom, stripping out of his jeans and shirt and palming himself hard. He leans back on the couch and takes a moment to think about what he’s about to do.

Grant whispers to himself, as if to make it real, “I’m gonna be Joey’s first fuckin’ time.”

“Like hell you are.” The voice behind him is deep, reverberating, dominating. Grant jumps, and on instinct tries to escape. His father moves quickly and quietly to face him, catching Grant’s arm easily as he tries to run up the stairs. He can’t think straight, not with Slade throwing him back onto the couch with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs.

“I’ve been thinking about the best way to do this, Grant.” Slade says. He’s still dressed in his stupid outfit, orange and black commanding all of Grant’s attention. He hadn’t even taken the mask off. “Every time I’ve disciplined you it just seems to make you worse. Guess I know why, now.”

“Fuck you,” Grant spits, and one of Slade’s hands reaches to grab harshly at his chin. Before Grant can say anything else, that same hand slams, palm up, against his cheek. It makes his teeth rattle.

“Can’t believe how sick you are. Dragging your brother into this game. Disgusting.” One of Slade’s hands tangles in Grant’s hair, forcing it downward.

His cheek pressed against the cushion, Grant smiles. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it?”

The harsh sound of a slap rings through the room. One of Slade’s gloved hands hits hard against Grant’s bare ass, leaving an ugly red mark. Grant gasps.

“Grant?” Joey yells from upstairs. “I can’t find it!”

“Keep fucking looking!” Grant screams back, harsher than he means it. Slade smiles.

“Don’t want your brother to see you being put in your place?” Another rough spanking has Grant gasping.

“Fuck, fuck you, old fucking asshole,” Grant whispers. He hears Slade unbuckling something behind him, before an even harsher spanking makes him cry out. He doesn’t wear a belt, not in that costume, but… Grant takes a look behind him.

The strip of leather against his ass isn’t from a belt, but taken from the holster on one of his father’s thighs. Grant shivers at the thought. Slade brings it down twice more in quick succession and Grant muffles his cries against his hand. He feels his ass burn red, knows Slade’s raising welts with how hard he’s being hit. He stifles another cry.

Slade takes something from his belt and Grant feels one of those gloved fingers press wet against his hole.

“No,” Grant says, “Why are y-”

“Maybe if I try a creative punishment you’d learn something for once.” The finger circling his hole presses inside. Grant yells into his hand. It doesn’t hurt but the shame of knowing it’s Slade doing this to him makes his stomach turn.

“What do I have to _do_ to you to get you to listen to me, Grant?” Slade asks. His voice is so calm, detached from what he’s doing. Slade adds another finger and twists, and Grant feels angry tears threaten to drip down his cheeks. He feels more slick drip down his hole.

“Fuck, fuck,” Grant says. It can’t be happening like this. He wasn’t supposed to be the one vulnerable, being fingered open. He was supposed to fuck Joey like this. He was supposed to be where Slade was, watching his brother come undone on his cock. Feel it around him, cum deep inside before Slade ever could.

“Grant, I really can’t find it!” Joey yells. “I looked in the drawers, in the closet…”

“Look harder! Don’t come down without it!” Grant yells back. He can hear the obscene sounds the lube makes when Slade adds another finger.

Grant almost howls when Slade spanks him with the leather of the holster again, not against his ass but lower, near his balls. It hurts, makes him jerk away on instinct, but Slade’s fingers inside of him hold him where he is.

“You get tighter when I hit you,” Slade laughs. “Such a fucking slut for it. Why don’t you beg me, boy? Not that you deserve any kindness.”

“Fuck you,” he grits out. Tears flow freely now, staining dark against the couch. “I don’t want your dirty fuckin cock anywhere near me.”

“Fine,” Slade says, pulling out his fingers. They make a wet noise against his hole before there’s something harder pressing against him. Grant feels it breach him, cold and unmoving, and it’s not Slade’s cock--

It’s his gun.

“No!” Grant screams, trying desperately to move away. Slade’s hand holds firm on the back of his neck, keeping him in place as the gun slowly works inside of him. “No, no, no!”

“Isn’t this what you asked for?” Slade says against his ear. “My dirty fucking cock is nowhere near you.”

“No, Slade, please,” Grant sobs. “Take it out, please!” Slade keeps moving it, little motions that make Grant take more and more inside him. “You can’t, you can’t!”

“This is what happens when you keep pressing your luck, boy. You want to see what I’ll do? I’ll fuck you on the barrel of my gun while your brother watches.”

Grant shivers and looks to the stairs. Sure enough, Joey stands halfway down, eyes wide and face red, watching rapt. He doesn’t move.

“Don’t look!” Grant sobs. Slade presses his head into the cushion harder.

“Come here, Joey. This is part of your brother’s punishment.”

“Don’t,” Grant whispers. He feels the butt of the gun press against his thigh; it was all the way inside. “Slade, please, please, please…”

“Are you gonna kill him like that?” Joey asks. Slade barks out a laugh.

“Not unless he keeps trying to make me angry.” Joey crowds at his father’s side, watches the gun slide out of his brother’s stretched hole before slamming back inside.

“Ah!” Grant screams. Slade keeps fucking him on it, watching as Grant writhes and twists.

“I don’t ever _want_ to punish you, Grant. I don’t take any pleasure in it. But sometimes you give me no choice.”

“Dad, stop,” Joey says, one hand pressing against Slade’s wrist where it grips the handle of the pistol tightly. “You’re hurting him.”

“Does he look hurt to you, Joey?” Slade pulls the gun out completely and Grant collapses into the couch. Slade grabs his leg and flips him over, Grant moving his hands in front of his face to cover his eyes in embarrassment. His cock slaps against his stomach, still hard. “Take a good, long look at your brother.”

Then Slade’s fingers are stretching him, opening him obscenely for Joey to see. “I’ve been kind. I’ve been more than kind, given the kind of things he’s been saying to you.”

“Dad,” Joey whines, “He didn’t, I want…”

“You don’t _know_ what you want, Joey.” He turns to face Joey completely, fingers still pulling at Grant’s walls.

Joey’s kissing him before he can say any more, lips working awkward against the mask he wears. He feels Joey’s tongue against the fabric, wetting it. Slade allows himself to groan, hungry.

“Fuck,” he swears, pushing Joey off of him.

“Pop?” Joey whines. Slade sees it in his eyes, the crease of his brow; worry and shame. He thinks he’s done something wrong, like Slade isn’t the conductor of this entire orchestra of chaos and perversion.

Slade strips the mask off. “Come here, Joey. Try it again.”

He smiles and kisses Slade again, moaning into it. Slade tries to guide the kiss into something smoother, but Joey’s enthusiasm for licking into his mouth makes it difficult. He can feel Joey’s erection pressed against his hip, the boy nearly humping him for the friction. When Slade pulls back, Joey’s lips are red and wet.

“You want to fuck him, Joey?” Slade asks. Grant watches his brother crawl on the couch towards him. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He was supposed to fuck Joey. He was supposed to be in charge.

Slade grabs one of Grant’s legs to haul him closer. “Work on him while I get undressed. You don’t have to go slow. This is a punishment.” Joey’s mouth nearly waters.

“Jo, wait,” Grant begs, “You aren’t gonna really--”

He pushes inside. It feels different from his father’s gun, or even his fingers, Joey’s cock is warm and raw and it makes Grant throw his head back and yowl.

“Good boy,” Slade says, and Grant doesn’t know if it’s directed at Joey or him. He feels his brother snap his hips on instinct, harder than he means to. It stings where his father had spanked him, and he arches his back as Joey pounds into him.

“So good, ‘s so good, Grant,” Joey drools. He grabs at Grant’s hips for better leverage, before Slade pushes one of Grant’s legs up against his chest to change the angle.

“Fuck!” Grant sobs, “There, Jo!”

Joey fucks into him, harder and harder. It’s too much for him to take, he’s going to come, he’s going to come while his younger brother fucks him, it’s too much and he hasn’t even touched his dick and _he can’t take it_ \--

Joey stops and collapses against him, breathing heavy.

“No!” Grant says, “Don’t stop, Jo, don’t fucking--”

“You didn’t feel him come inside you, boy?” Slade says. Joey picks himself up and pulls out of Grant’s used hole, milky white cum dripping out of him to wet the couch.

“Good boy, Joey,” Slade kisses him, a show of dominance more than anything else.

Grant cries, one hand grabbing at his cock. Slade knocks it away and presses his wrist to the couch before he can even finish one stroke.

“I’m so _close_ ,” Grant sobs. “I can’t, I need to _come_ , please!”

“Beg.” Slade says, lining his cock up against Grant’s. It’s huge, it’s bigger than Joey’s dick and the gun combined, it’s bigger than Grant’s ever seen before.

“I need it, please!” Grant says. His hands spread his cheeks, showing where Joey’s cum leaks from his abused hole. “Please, daddy, please!”

Slade growls at that, a deep sound that scares Grant and Joey both, and presses inside.

Grant arches his back and screams.

“It’s too big,” Joey whispers. “Dad. It won’t _fit_.”

Grant makes more whining noises at the back of his throat, his mouth hanging open. He’s being stretched so wide on Slade’s cock, his _father’s_ cock, and he loves it.

“It’ll fit,” Slade says. “Look, boy, at how well you _take it_.”

Grant obeys, sees where half of his father’s cock is spearing him open, and shivers. His stomach is pressed outward with the size of it. He can’t believe it, just stares as Slade keeps pressing inside, marking him from the inside out.

“Ah, _ah_ ,” Grant tries, but can’t seem to form any words. He feels tears fall from his eyes, but can’t stop them.

“This is what you’re good for,” Slade says. “This is where you belong. Under me.”

Grant watches his stomach distend as Slade snaps his hips forward. He presses one hand to where his skin is stretched, feels the size of his father’s cock from where it shifts inside him, and comes.

It feels like it’s being pulled out of him, raw and painful. He feels his muscles contract, feels himself clench around Slade impossibly tight, feels his toes curl and his balls draw taut and his cum paints his stomach.

Slade keeps fucking him through it until Grant sobs out, weakly, “I can’t, dad.”

“You can.” Slade says calmly, keeps thrusting hard and fast inside of him. Grant feels like a toy, being used as Slade chases his own pleasure. Grant turns his head to where Joey stands next to them, watches as he tugs at his cock for a second orgasm.

“You gonna come for me, Jo?” Grant smiles. “Love you so much, Jo. Wanna see you come.”

Joey’s cock jerks in his hand and spends on Grant’s face. He licks it from his lips, smiles again while his body gets rocked with each of Slade’s thrusts, harder and faster.

Unlike with Joey, Grant feels when Slade comes. It feels like a pressure inside him, spreading deeper, deeper. He watches, feeling a sick enjoyment, as his stomach swells with it, Slade’s eyes focused on him.

“Too much,” He gasps, and his cock gives a weak jerk at the feeling.

“Good boy,” Slade says, stroking a hand over his belly. It’s tender, too much for Grant to take. He sobs with overstimulation, pulls his father down for a kiss.

Slade doesn’t fight against it, and kisses Grant with passion. Grant wonders, distantly, if he’d ever been this fucked out before. This happy.

He smiles, feels Joey pull Slade away to kiss him too, and closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me about slade fucking everyone on twitter @ratclowns
> 
> written for a friend


End file.
